Things Unforseen
by MaeLace
Summary: Alternate beginning to Season 2. John learns something interesting about Sam after the accident.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This picks up at the start of season two. It's planned as a one-shot, but I wouldn't mind getting more play out of the story if there is an interest. Spoilers up to the end of season one. Oh, and I know that the medical stuff is either wrong or unrealistic. I'm a soc major, bite me. =) _

John Winchester woke slowly, long practice allowing him to remain still and keep his breathing steady. He got a feel for his surroundings before alerting anyone who might be watching to the fact that he was awake. The antiseptic smell, the steady beeping, there was no mistaking it. He was in a hospital. Opening his eyes, he looked around. His leg was heavily bandaged, which made sense, he remembered being shot. But it hadn't been all that bad, John had had far worse on hunts, but had never gone to the hospital, couldn't risk it. So why was he- oh shit. The semi- the crash. Dean, torn up so much already by the demon in his body. Sam, refusing to kill John, and the demon along with him.

Struggling with he tangle of blankets and the various tubes and wires that he was attached to, John tried to get up. A nurse rushed in, alerted by the monitors.

"Sir! Sir, you have to lay back down!" She called for orderlies who helped her force John back down.

"My boys-" He protested, only to be cut of by the nurse as she checked him over.

"Your sons are both alright. They haven't woken up yet, but your daughter has been sitting with them. The eldest, he's had a rough time of it, but we think he ought to pull through. The younger one- Sam, he should be waking up at any time now. You seem to be okay, save for that leg." Seeing the look on his face, she relented a bit. "These readings are actually pretty good, all things considered. Let me get you a chair, and you can go look in on your boys, alright?"

Wheeling himself down the corridors as the nurse directed, John made his way to Sam's room. Dean was in ICU, and the visiting hours would not begin again until morning. Just as the nurse had said, there was a dark haired girl sitting beside Sam's bed, facing the door. Hearing him, she looked up from the book she was reading and rose in greeting. Before she could speak, John pushed the door shut behind him.

* * *

"It's strange, but I could have sworn that I didn't have a daughter." The girl frowned for a moment, then realized what he meant.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's just how Sam and I set up the insurance, because most of the time, if it's really bad, they only let immediate family in. And we look enough alike, so it works. First time we've had to use it like this, though." She held out her hand "I'm Linnea Ward." John returned the greeting, still not entirely sure what to think. Seeing this, she continued. "Sam and I hunted together down at Stanford."

Now John was on his guard.

"Hunted? What exactly do you mean by that?" The girl looked at him like he was crazy.

"You know? Hunting? That thing with the ghosts and the demons and whatnot. How hard did you hit your head in that crash, sir?" If he had been able, John would have stood up at this. There was just no way that Sammy would have been hunting while he was at Stanford, not with all the hell that he had raised over wanting a 'normal life'.

"I think maybe you hit your head, Miss Ward. I know my sons, and there is no way in hell that Sam was hunting while he was in school." The girl backed away now, hands on her hips.

"Is that what you think of Sam? Really? You think that you raised a man who was willing to just sit there and let people get killed by creatures that they had no chance against? It wasn't real hunting, I guess. We didn't look for things to go after. But if something showed up in our area, we took care of it. Is it really so hard to believe that Sam would do that?" John looked at the girl in astonishment. What she was saying sounded so out there- but did it, really? Both of his sons had grown up on the road, fighting. Though it had taken John almost three years to realize it, he was the one who had made Sam choose between hunting and school. If what this girl was saying was true, if Sam could have had both, why wouldn't he have taken it?

John looked over at his son. He looked so young, laying there hooked up to all of the tubes and wires. But as John looked closer, he saw something else. Sam had been fighting all along, not just because of Jessica. He had hunted by choice, not because John had ordered, not because Dean had cajoled, but because he wanted to. John smiled with pride, allowing the warmth of it to chase away some of the fear that he felt right then for his boys. But this left another question.

"And how did you get into all of this?" She rolled her eyes.

"What, because I'm a girl?" Off his look, she muttered 'Every single time' before continuing to him "You're not the only Hunter with kids. My dad's Carter Ward. You ever hunted with him?" To John's surprise, he knew the name. The man had hunted a pack of Black Dogs with him two years earlier. He had been good, a member of a family with a long history of hunting. It had been the first time John had met a Hunter who wasn't in it because something had happened to someone they loved.

"Yeah, I've met your father. How's he doing?" A shadow crossed her face, and John did not need to hear her reply to know what had happened. "I'm sorry." There was really nothing else to be said on that front. She smiled a little too brightly.

"It's alright. Now, I'm sure you want to see Dean as well? He's in ICU, and the visiting hours are over, but with the circumstances- I've been here for a bit, the staff knows me. They might let you in, I can try." She looked at him questioningly, and after a final look at his younger son, he nodded and rolled towards the door.

* * *

A few words with the night nurse had John and Linnea into Dean's room. It nearly broke John's heart to see his boy laying there like that, so pale, with machines keeping him going. Dean had so much fight in him, so much life. _Has_ John mentally corrected himself. Dean _is_ a fighter, and he _is_ going to make it. As John took a shuddering breath, he felt Linnea lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Yes, John thought. His son's were both strong, and because of Sam, their family wasn't alone right now. They were all going to make it through this.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, this has been sitting on my hard drive for months, figured I may as well post it, though I don't know if I'll continue the story beyond it. I have a plot, but I'm not really into the SPN fandom right now, the show has just gotten so... Yeah. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

The ICU nurse kicked John out after a few hours. Linnea had already left to go back and sit with Sam, and now John went to join her.

The room was full of medical personnel when he arrived, and at first he feared that something had gone wrong. But as the nurses began to clear out, he saw that Sam was propped up in bed, awake. As the last doctor left after speaking briefly with Linnea, Sam looked over, spotting his father in the doorway.

"Hey Dad." It was clear that Sam wanted to ask about his brother, but something was holding him back. Seeing the way that his son's eyes kept darting over to the girl in the corner, John decided to get this out of the way.

"Good to see you awake, Sammy." He paused for a moment, wheeling over closer to the bed. "So, your friend here tells me you were hunting at school." He let it go as a statement, and for once, Sam didn't jump down his throat, instead ducking his head. When he met John's eyes again, he looked rather sheepish.

"Yeah. I guess you were right, it isn't something you can just walk away from." No one spoke for a few moments, and when it became clear that John was going to accept this as it was, at least for the time being, Sam changed to subject. "You were just in with Dean, right? How is he?"

"Been better. Been worse too. He'll pull through." Sam stared at him as though trying to gauge how much of this was to convince him, and how much was to convince his father. John remained stone faced, and Sam looked to his friend in frustration. "Nea?" So apparently this girl had a nickname, and Sam was a good enough friend of hers to use it. This stood to reason if they had hunted together, but it still made John wonder.

"Well, he's in ICU, that ought to tell you something. But he's been stabilizing, and the last time I talked to the nurse she switched to saying 'when' he wakes up instead of 'if'. So that has to be good." John now mirrored Sam's shock. He had only heard the 'when'. The fact that it hadn't always been a sure thing, that this had really been _that_ serious, scared him more than anything that he had ever hunted.

A nurse entered the room, carrying a hospital tray.

"Mr. Winchester, we need you to return to your room now. The doctor will be coming by to check you over." John took Sam's hand, giving it a firm squeeze before wheeling himself back to his own room.

An hour or so later, Linnea popped her head in through the door.

"Oh good, you're still awake." She came in to the room proper as she continued to speak. "The real visiting hours in ICU start in just a bit, and the nurse said Sam will probably sleep through at least the first half, with his meds. You on the other hand, they're talking about discharging, so I thought maybe you'd want to come back to ICU?" The talk of discharging caused John to realize something that had not quite registered with him earlier.

"Miss Ward-"

"I think you can call me Linnea, especially considering they think we're related."

"That's the problem. That nurse earlier called me Winchester. Maybe you and Sam have health insurance, but Dean and I don't. What we do have, it isn't in our names and I don't think we will be able to use it now. These people will still need paid, and-" He stopped. Linnea was looking at him very strangely.

"It covers you, both of you. Sam changed it after Jess died. He's been sending me the payments. And I'm not sure how legit that money is, but hey, I'm not asking. It's good insurance though, we might owe something on Dean, but you and Sam are all taken care of." John looked at her in astonishment. When Jess had died, when Dean had fetched Sam from Stanford, neither of the boys had even known where he was. Reading his look with surprising accuracy, the girl continued. "And that was the problem. Wherever you were, well, he wanted to know that you would be taken care of." She allowed the silence to hang for a few moments before going to the corner to grab the wheelchair. "So, are you coming?"


End file.
